The Iron Alchemist

Chapter 58

Lyolis sat alone in the study where she'd spent the last three days, reading tales of love and lost, hoping to rid the memories that made her head ache. She'd never been disrespected like the way her future husband had done. Sure, her mother scolded her, and her father would speak with a tone, and even the other chieftain daughters from other clans had their cruel whispers, but never to her face, and never in the icy tone Zoar had used. 

She needed to get her mind off of him, and the only way to make that possible, and not blame herself for what happened, was to clear her head through scripters. The same way she had done as a young girl. For three days now she'd been yanking books from the shelves and stacking them in piles when she finished reading or got bored with the material, leaving the room in disarray. Lyolis feared that if one paper tower collapsed, all of them would come tumbling down, leaving her suffocating at the bottom. 

It was only on the third day that her mother discovered where she'd been going. For some odd reason her parents never shared the same passion for books as she had, and never bothered to look in the study until this day. "Our people keep our tales in our head, passing them down to our younglings,  where they will pass it down to their younglings. And if we are to parish, our tales will parish with us." Her father always told her. And strangely, when her parents didn't seem to agree on anything, her mother agreed on this. Then again, they always seemed to agree when it came to her behalf. "Keep your nose out of books, Dear." Her mother said. "Or it might get stuck, then you'll find your life has passed you by at the turn of a page."

Lyolis flipped the next page of an old tome she'd discovered an hour after her mother demanded she clean up the mess. "And you're not to come out until you're done!" Her mother would later regret telling her, for Lyolis had no reason to clean with haste. 

She had been standing on the ladder, near the top rung, placing a tale on poisonous snakes back on on the shelf when something caught her eye. A row of newer books concealed the tome though Lyolis learned,long ago, when she was at the library quite often, that it was back behind books where the hidden gems lied. And this book was no different. 

It was old and dusty and thick as two bricks. Casting a smell like the Witch Doctor's tent she'd visited when she was a child. A smell that never left her nose. But that's not what drew her attention to the old tome, nor was it the golden-curved writing that filled the whole cover. Written in a language unknown to her lands. Nor was it the black-leather binding that hid away the pages and context inside. What drew her to the book was that it had recently been touched and viewed.  Peculiar, she thought, seeing the book half wiped like somebody had cleaned the cover face in a haste to be certain it was the book they'd been looking for.

Three pages in, Lyolis knew she'd stumbled upon something more than just any old cookmans book. This was a spellbook, full of dark secrets, and spells that were forbidden to be used in Civiland. There had been laws passed long ago, before her time, in the days of The Great Flames. It was long before the pioneers had conquered their lands. When another group had come to their world; the Jaikan's they were called. They came across Civiland collecting alchemy spells, and destroying anything they deemed unfit for the existence of man. 

Many had tried to overthrow the Jaikans, but all had failed, for their alchemy was beyond any power the others possessed: All the Jaikans powers resting in the one book known as The Alchemy Index, that'd been lost or destroyed not much time after. Everybody knew the tales, but it was forbidden to speak of, and those who did were often hung or worse. The world of Civiland wanted to forget those dark times.

Lyolis flipped the next page and several thick, bundles of pages fell with it, leaving the book open on a chapter reserved by a slip of parchment. "What's this? Link Alchemy," she read the golden title. The contents inside written in a blocky lettering found in the south parts of Texionya. "The written text of the Apaki," she'd whispered. 

It had been many moons since she last practice the nearly forgotten language, but after several stuttering paragraphs she began to remember like waking up and recalling a dream. She whisper to herself:

Link Alchemy: 

In order to bind oneself to a site you must first allow it to infest a host. 

Lyolis looked down at an image drawn in fine ink; a creature with a rounded head, sharp mandibles, and two long antennas. Behind the head, were multiple-rounded body segments, with sharp, hook-like legs attached to each segment. While two black, round eyes stared darkly at her from the page. 

She mumbled the note beneath the image, "there are many sites that can attach to a host. One being the Psycrasite, though the host must be very sick or close to death in order for the creature to attach itself."

Lyolis closed the book on a finger, feeling her skin crawl like a psycrasite crawling up her back. Ready to latch onto her body and use her as its host. She took a breath and reopened the book.

Once the host has been infested, the site will anchor itself inside the body. There can be a number of places the creatures use: The nose cavity, the back near the spine, between the throat, and even inside the skull. 

The pain in her head seemed to return. She rubbed her temples, working to relieve the ache. When she found her courage once more she carried on.

Now that the site has successfully attached to a host one can link their consciousness into the site. In order to do so, one must ingest Link Serum (see Link Serum to learn how possible.) Once ingested, the alchemy binds the Site and the Conjurer together allowing them to work as one entity.

Lyolis closed the book, "that's enough of that," She said, unable to bring herself to read more. Lyolis shivered at the thought, remembering what she'd seen days prior. The Mayor puppeteering her Brusk'kab. She rubbed her chin, "He had said that Voldian created the Linksite … is this what they meant—"

The door to the study whipped open, doors crashing against the wall. Lyolis leapt inside her skin. In the door stood a boy, leg stained blackish-red. The skin from his head torn, bloodied. His satin black strands scalped clean the skull. 

"My Queen," Zoar said, reaching out a trembling hand. His eyes ghoulish black. "Forgive me…" He dropped with a thud that echoed throughout the room. 

Lyolis clutched the parchment in her hand and ran to Zoar's side, kneeling to her knees. Her robe soaking in a pool of blood. She lifted Zoar into her arms, placing the parchment against the scalped skull flesh. "Help!" she cried, her shrilled voice echoing through the house. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Somebody help us!"